The Man Who Couldn't Open Doors
by Fenchurch1
Summary: Inspired by Season 5, episode 3, when Richard Woolsey was trapped by the closing doors. Is Atlantis trying to hide something from him? This is a McShep story - there is only mild kissing and romantic piers.


**The Man Who Couldn't Open Doors**

This was inspired by that great moment in Season 5, episode 3, when Woolsey gets up to follow the others out of the conference room and the doors close, trapping him. This is my version of what happened and why!

It wasn't possible that the city should not like him. The city would have to be an animate object in order that it should be able to have feelings, and Mr Woolsey was perfectly sure that she… _it_ was simply a city.

However, this did not explain why doors closed on him, why he was sent to completely opposite ends of the city by the transporters, or why things happened that sent him on wild goose chases around the _completely inanimate_ city.

It had become apparent to him after the meeting when he had firmly reminded Colonel Sheppard that he, Richard Woolsey, was in charge and that permission for any missions to take place had to be sought. The Colonel had graciously capitulated and Richard had proved, once and for all, that protocols would be followed.

Then the Leader of the Mission to Atlantis had turned to leave the room and his marvellous conference table, only to find that the doors had closed and he had no way of opening them again.

After that Richard Woolsey had become increasingly careful when approaching doors, as they might close on him without warning, or entering transporters, as they might send him to lonely balconies on the other side of the city, or even taking a shower, as the water might spurt out especially hard for no apparent reason.

The new Leader was beginning to suspect that a practical joke was being played on him. The strange thing was that these things were never dangerous in any way. He was never in any personal danger, but he was inconvenienced and that sounded just like the kinds of pranks that Military men… and women, of course, were fond of… except that few of his solders had that kind of technical expertise. Yet the scientists weren't usually into that kind of prank, deeming such a thing below them and their talents. Perhaps it was a team of two? A scientist and a soldier working together?

Surely not! McKay and Sheppard were much closer friends than he had ever imagined, and they could be like giggling children sometimes, but Woolsey couldn't believe that either of them had anything to do with it.

Besides, neither of them had ever been in a position to observe or enjoy his discomfort. In fact mostly they were off seeing to something else at the time… each time it had happened…

Mr Woolsey stopped walking down the corridor and thought his way through his dilemma.

That first time, after the meeting, Sheppard had been in a hurry to do something about saving his team-mate and friend, Ronon Dex. Both Sheppard and McKay had hurried off to suit up, or whatever it was they did, so neither had had time to trick the doors into closing. He knew that the duo always suited up together and checked each other before leaving, barely trusting anyone else to help, but Woolsey had never watched them do it. Had they doubled back to…? No! It was absurd! They had both been standing ready to leave by the time one of the technicians had got the door open, a little dishevelled and flushed, but neither interested in Woolsey's embarrassing problem.

Then there was that time when that cupboard door had opened in the corridor directly behind him, just as he was about to catch Sheppard entering his quarters. Woolsey had spun around and, by the time he had forced the door shut again, Sheppard had disappeared.

One beautiful evening, after a day of hard work, trying to read between the lines of a report from Major Lorne, Woolsey was about to step onto a balcony facing the moons for a quiet moment, when the doors closed and the glass frosted over.

They had remained like that for about a minute, then suddenly they had cleared again and allowed him the access he had been waiting for. He found an agitated Dr McKay leaning on the balcony and, on greeting him and mentioning the problem, McKay had gabbled something about mechanics, stained glass windows and what 'She' had done recently and then abandoned his boss at the double.

Only the day before, Mr Woolsey had been trying to find his way to the set of rooms that the translators had recently taken over. It was a haven of potted plants, comfy chairs and honest-to-goodness _paper_ and Woolsey wanted to ask some pertinent questions about the city.

The Head of the Atlantis Mission had taken a few wrong turns… all the corridors looked the same and his electronic map had some bizarre glitches in it… when he heard some giggling from two very male voices.

Intrigued, Woolsey had turned back, when suddenly the loudspeakers had bellowed one of those hideous, trashy pop things that the soldiers seemed to enjoy listening to. Why couldn't it have been something tasteful like Brahms… or Bach?

Waggling a finger in his abused ear, Woolsey was heading back up the corridor towards his intended destination, when the music ceased just as suddenly as it had begun. He paused and turned around.

Colonel Sheppard was striding towards him, pulling at his radio and adjusting his shirt. Dr McKay was hurrying away down the corridor, shouting at someone through his own radio in his inimitable fashion.

Now, heading into his own quarters with the beautiful view over the sea and the South pier, Woolsey began to put the incidents together.

Everything came back down to Sheppard and McKay. After the first meeting, they had left together and he had been prevented from seeing the way they behaved on the other side of the door. He had seen smirks on people's faces and had assumed that they were aimed at him, but perhaps they had been caused by something else?

The cupboard opening for no apparent reason and the music… both had ended in the pair clearing off quickly and in a slightly dishevelled state. He had seen them together plenty of times in the Mess, arguing, laughing, patting each other on the back, the shoulder, the arm.

They were a very tight team and each one was always desperate to look out for any other member, but McKay and Sheppard took that to extremes. They were often to be heard berating each other, arguing over method, plans, attitudes, but Sheppard would always back McKay and McKay would always be behind Sheppard if either one was challenged by anyone else.

McKay was rude and inconsiderate and yet if Sheppard told him to apologise to someone, he would do so instantly. If anyone tried to stop McKay from doing something, or saying something, then the bulldozing scientist would ignore it and do his own thing… unless Sheppard stopped him.

The Colonel was rash and stupidly brave, but if McKay held him back and told him how foolish his plan was, then Sheppard would rethink his strategy. Anyone else would be ignored. Except Teyla who had sticks.

Was there more to their friendship than… well, friendship? Woolsey really wanted to ask someone, but who could he approach? Lorne would deny all knowledge and remind him not to _ask_ as he couldn't_ tell_. Zelenka would probably answer him in Czech. Teyla would smile serenely and hand him her baby, while Ronon would… actually, he probably wouldn't _ask_ Ronon. He kind of liked his face the way it was…

Samantha Carter? No, she'd rather flatten him for taking her post. Elizabeth was gone, O'Neill would never answer and no one else would know what the answer really was.

He would have to do it the logical way. Woolsey would have preferred to use paper, but it was an expensive and rare commodity that should not be wasted on such frivolity. So he pulled his laptop towards him and started making notes.

_Item_

_They are forever adjusting their shirts. Granted, McKay's cover up a few bumps and need to be adjust every now and then, while Sheppard's clothes are rarely up to parade standards, but even so…_

Woolsey looked up, distracted suddenly by the flickering of the lights. It was unusual for the power to fluctuate here… unless the scientists were playing with their… science stuff.

_Item_

_The way they behave together. The team is tight, close, extremely loyal, but this is different. The two men are opposites in interests, activities and personalities, and yet they are both on the same wavelength. _

Sometimes Woolsey couldn't fathom what they were talking about, but they spoke and understood each other, hearing what the other _didn't_ say as well as what they did.

Besides, the lights had stopped flickering and were… waving. The downlights on the walls were growing warm, darker and then went lighter. It was a very pleasant effect – far better than that flickering thing. He frowned at the lights, and they stopped. He turned back to his writing.

Of course McKay had the same kind of relationship with Radek Zelenka. When those two got together and enthused about something, they were almost creepy in the way they anticipated each other's ideas and threw in solutions before either had had time to finish their sentences. No wonder McKay talked so rapidly. However, that was science and McKay and Sheppard were friends. Or possibly more than friends.

_Item_

_The Game. The report states that both Sheppard and McKay were playing a secret game for almost two years. They would creep away during downtime periods to play and no one else was informed about the game or where they were going._

Now, that was creepy.

As was the sudden burst of the opening to Beethoven's Fifth. He groped around, but discovered that he _had not_ just moved against the remote. The remote was exactly where he always left it – on the lamp table by the balcony.

Not in the mood for Beethoven, and certainly not for something as crass as the Fifth, he grabbed the remote and switched the music off, before settling down again to think.

They had managed to keep the game a secret for such a long time and also they had been adept at sneaking away without being noticed. Woolsey didn't trust secrets and so was suspicious immediately. What if they had been doing more than playing a game? And why did they keep such a game secret? Elizabeth Weir had had to announce to the whole Mission that the playing of this game was strictly off-limits, and even then she had had to reprimand Zelenka and Lorne for playing. The Game was exactly the kind of thing that the whole Mission would have enjoyed, and yet McKay and Sheppard had managed to keep it a secret.

_Item_

_They always sit together in the Mess and often aim for times when no one else is likely to be there._

Of course that might also be due to McKay's extraordinary eating habits, but that didn't explain Sheppard's presence, or the fact that Sheppard often picked up extra food for McKay to pinch from his tray.

He looked up, waiting to see if there would be any reaction to this, but all he could hear was the faint hum that always accompanied life in the city.

_Item_

_No one else could put up with McKay._

The lights went off completely.

"All right! All right! I'm sorry!" he apologized and was rewarded with light.

Okay, perhaps that was a bit mean, but there were few people who could put up with the man in their free time as well as at work.

_Item_

_Sheppard has instant access into McKay's room and McKay has same for Sheppard's room._

Hmm. Definitely suspicious. The lights flickered a little, so perhaps…

_Item_

_Sheppard refuses to attend lab sessions for activation of Ancient artefacts for anyone other than McKay… yet McKay also has the gene. McKay often clears his lab when Sheppard is there._

The opening notes of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony filled the room and Woolsey congratulated himself on his logic and reasoning before carrying on.

_Item_

_If Atlantis is truly intelligent, then she is trying to keep me from seeing McKay and Sheppard together._

Woolsey lifted his fingers from the keyboard and read what he had just written.

Then he read it again.

Was he really suggesting that the city was _conniving_ to hide her people? Seriously?

It was at that precise moment that his balcony doors opened. For a whole minute, Woolsey just sat at his desk and contemplated the windows, trying to apply reason and logic, but failing miserably. He just couldn't help feeling that the city was trying to guide him in some way.

There really was nothing else he could do. The air outside was warm, but there was a breeze that was making the room feel cold… or had the city played with the temperature controls again? He shook his head to rid it of such fanciful rubbish and went to close the window.

That was when he caught sight of the scene that the city was attempting to show him, and his conjectures were void. Only a conscious entity could have manipulated him in such a way.

On the South pier there were two, very easily recognised, men. They sat together, just a foot of space between them and they were laughing. There were cans and bottles, presumably of beer- it was hard to tell from here, sitting next to the men and as McKay lifted his beer bottle to his lips, he bumped Sheppard's shoulder.

Sheppard lifted his hand and patted McKay's shoulder with it, then McKay put his beer down and leaned over to Sheppard. Sheppard put his arm around McKay's shoulders and pulled him to lie against him. Sheppard said something and then McKay lifted up and placed a gentle kiss on Sheppard's lips.

It was such a gentle and romantic scene that Woolsey couldn't help but be charmed by it. All he could see was a tableau of two people who were very comfortable with each other, enjoying each other's company and sharing a private moment. They were definitely _more_ than just friends!

It took a little soul searching, and a little re-tracking of his mind, but eventually Richard Woolsey came to a conclusion that surprised him. While he had no interest in trying it out for himself – people who claimed that 'all men are at least bi-curious' were wrong, as he had never been tempted by anything another man might have to offer – all he could see when he saw his Chief Scientist and his Military Commander sitting on a pier in the moonlight, was two people in love. How could love be wrong? It didn't matter that they shared a gender. Neither had ever allowed their relationship to affect their work, so why should he have any qualms or queries over the issue?

"You know," Woolsey said out loud, addressing the city in a moment of indulgent anthropomorphism, "I can understand their relationship now. I can see it and, in some ways, I can even envy it." He felt a little awkward, but he placed his hand on the balcony wall and, in a gesture that bordered on… _soppy_, he patted her gently. "Thank you for helping me to understand."

He smiled softly, looked over at the laughing couple on the pier and sighed with a satisfied smile on his face. He turned to go in… and the doors closed on him.


End file.
